An Ode to the Cold Salad

Oh cold salads. How I love you in the summers. How do I love you all? Let me count the ways.

1. You make summer parties a snap. Like a few weeks ago when The Narrator requested a family lunch after the triathlon on his birthday. I assembled you all a day or two ahead of time. All packed neatly in bowls in the fridge, you made the race day party completely hassle free. We cheered on the sidelines, then rushed home to greet everyone for lunch. I pulled all of you out of the fridge and set you on the counter. Hungry triathletes and spectators hungry from watching racers work so hard devoured you in good form. Then I packed you all up and put you away. No oven, no stovetop, just pure cold refreshment assembled with leisure the day before. And everyone raved over the refreshing food on the warm sweaty day.

2. You make picnics in the woods taste gourmet. Mr Mighty bean salad all full of protein swimming in vinegar and spices, and you Pretty Pasta Salad with chunks of cheese and onion and peas swathed in white low-fat mayo, you made that picnic in the woods by Lake Michigan taste exceptionally delicious. Paired with the turkey burgers toasted over charcoal, this was no ordinary picnic of burgers and chips. Waiting for us in a cooler so patiently, you did your job of finishing off a day full of sun and sand with memorable gusto. Ravenous from a day full of play, you were the star of our dinner under the canopy of green.

3. I can eat you for weeks. Leftover in my fridge, you keep for  a week, and some of you for two! And most of you give us the pleasure of tasting better after each day you marinate in your dressings of choice. I loved you the first time, and even more the second.

4. At impromptu gatherings you make my life easy. Like the time I ran 14 miles with my training partner, and we came home ravenous and empty of fuel, we paired your mighty leftovers from the picnic the day before with a takeout pizza. You hit the spot, taking pizza and making it into a full, well-rounded meal with your veggies and protein to supplement and soak up the grease and the bread.

5. You keep me cool and refreshed. What summer cook doesn’t hate to be stuck in the kitchen slaving over 450 degrees of heat? That’s why you, Mighty Bean Salad, dumped from cans and whisked together in healthy oil and vinegar are one of my favorites. Even you, Chilled Chicken Salad, after a quick stovetop visit for the chicken are rather easy to assemble. And you marinated veggies, chopped and dumped into a pool of vinegar – you all help me leave my shiny new oven feeling rather blue and alone. Never fear, she’s just on summer vacation and will be put to good use this fall, when this cook doesn’t mind the heat so much.

My cuddle bug

T-Rex has developed a habit over the past six months of climbing into my bed around 7 a.m. and then falling back asleep for a little while before he starts the “I want brefast” chant. I didn’t realize how important this new routine was to him until a couple weeks ago. I decided to be a “good” mom and get up and shower and be dressed before the kids woke up. I stepped out of the shower, and a very red-eyed, poochy-lipped T-Rex was at the door trying to hold his composure. “What’s the matter, buddy?” The floodgates opened as he cried, “I didn’t get to cuddle with yoooouuu!!!” Break. My. Heart. I scooped him up and reassured him that we could still cuddle for awhile. And so we snuggled until he was satisfied and started the “brefast” chant.

This morning, he climbed in as usual around 7 a.m. and fell right back to sleep, but he grabbed my arm and wrapped his little arms around it as if clinging for dear life, and snuggled his head into my shoulder. He was fast asleep, but everytime I shifted, he grabbed my arm tighter and buried his head deeper.

I know our mornings are going to be seriously rocked in six weeks when Little Miss starts kindergarten. So in the meantime, I’m soaking up every second of summer morning snuggles while I can.

#10 MDM

Song Prayers

Over the past year, the kids have started doing “song prayers” at bedtime. Little Miss loves to sing, and one evening she asked if she could sing her prayer. It was beautiful, spontaneous and heart-felt. T-Rex will occasionally join in as well. Unscripted singing seems to unleash their little souls of gratefulness with angelic musical adoration.

On a recent 45-minute drive home from my in-laws, Little Miss started singing a prayer. I clicked off the cd I had started playing to help me stay awake, and tuned my ears instead to the backseat, trying to remember as much of her verse as I could. Here’s some snippets:

We are singing praise to God, We are singing to Him.
Praise Him, All praise to Him.

We are His little sheep.
Let us run to Him and not away from Him.
We love Him so much and want to be with Him.

And even when we go far from home and miss our mothers and fathers and all sorts of grandmas and grandpas, He is always with us, telling us not to be afraid or sad.

And when bad things happen He is there with us, He never leaves us.
We want to praise Him, praise Him all the time.
We love Him so very very much and want to be with Him in Heaven, Amen.

The sun was sinking just below the treeline casting a fire orange glow across the fields. My soul sighed with deep contentment as the little amen left her lips. She asked me if it was good. I told her it was very good and so beautiful. In fact, I don’t think a whole host of angels could sing more beautifully or please Him more than the sincere outpouring of a child who wants nothing more than to love Him and be with Him forever. And as a parent – to get a glimpse into your child’s beautiful heart – that’s worth way more than a million dollars.

#9 MDM

Glo-Stick Grandpa

It’s been fun over the past 5 years to watch our parents turn into grandparents. I’ve gotten a kick out of my parents especially. There’s just something special about watching your own parents turn to mush with your kids and do things they never, ever would have done for you as a child. Two popsicles? Sure thing honey! A stuffed animal at the zoo? You betcha! A zoo umbrella, ok! Zoo sunglasses, yeah! (They go to the zoo a lot, mainly because they have passes to one of the coolest zoos in the U.S.) A little stuffed animal to remind you of our trip, of course!

My parents came to visit recently. It was their first visit in our new home. We were delighted to show them around our new town, which happened to be having its annual festival. The weekend concluded with fireworks. For a small town, we were rather impressed with the show – not to mention that we didn’t have to fight traffic, we weren’t crowded on the lawn, and it took us exactly 5 minutes to get to our car and drive home. None of the above would have been true in the big city we moved from.

We arrived with just enough time to claim our patch of grass and spread a sheet with a good view of the open sky. There were groups of people with sparklers, and a general spirit of celebration in the air. My Dad said he was going to go check something out. I watched him as he headed over towards a group of young people and I thought at first he was going to go inspect the riff-raff – maybe make sure they didn’t have something illegal that they were lighting up. But then I saw the very brightly glowing young man, and I knew that was where he was headed. Sure enough, Dad walked back with two glo-stick necklaces for the kids. I laughed. It did make it much easier to keep track of them on the walk back to the car.

It’s funny how something so little and simple makes such big memories. I get a fuzzy warm feeling every time I eat a red hot because my great-grandpa always had them at his house. I chuckle every time I see a scratch-off lotto ticket at the gas station because my Grandpa bought me one once and I won $5. Maybe in their 30’s, my kids will smile and think of my Dad every time they see a glo-stick necklace. You just never know what those Million Dollar Moments will be.

#8 MDM

umbrella sprinklers

The consensus in our home among those under 4 feet tall is that the best thing about getting new sod is how often you have to run the sprinklers. Hang on…I need to go move the sprinkler…

I’m back, and with a cup of coffee. Back to sprinklers. However, in the over 4 feet tall population in our home there has been some grumbling about water bills.

During one watering session, Little Miss Sunshine wanted to play in the sprinklers, but not really get wet. So she grabbed her umbrella out of the backseat of the car and stood in the sprinklers under her umbrella. Any excuse to use the pink umbrella works for her, even if it’s just a drip off a roof.

T-Rex, not about to be undone grabbed his umbrella as well. He really didn’t mind getting wet, in fact, his clothes were already soaked. He just wanted to play with the umbrella. It apparently makes a very good sword for fighting imaginary battles in the rain.

I sat on the steps trying to stay out of harm’s way, keeping my eye on the stopwatch to know when to move the sprinkler. A white minivan drove by, rather slowly, and I noticed a woman (undoubtedly another mother) getting a good laugh at my children sitting on the lawn under their umbrellas next to the sprinklers.

It was an unforgettable summer moment….oh, time to move the sprinkler again.

#7MDM

the crowded dining table

We crowded 10 people around our new dining room table last night. It was one of those very rare moments in our current stage of life where there were 3 times as many adults as there were people age 5 and under. That being stated, we were able to actually eat our dinner together, and talk, and laugh, and enjoy each other’s company. I savored each moment just as I did the delectable zucchini brownies for dessert. I knew the gathering around our table would be rare as our visitors were out-of-town family. I wanted to capture the moment in my mind’s scrapbook so I could return to that page in years to come.

I’ve come a long way in 13 years when it comes to hostessing. When we were first were married and The Narrator would suggest having company over for dinner, I’d grab an empty flour bag and start hyperventilating. By the time our dinner guests would arrive, I’d be exhausted and barely able to enjoy the dinner I’d slaved over. Not to mention the kitchen cleanup I’d have afterward, and the fretting over whether or not the food was any good (probably wasn’t).

Somewhere over the past 5 years, I figured things out and started enjoying hostessing. I think motherhood may have had something to contribute. Along the way of having babies, you figure out how to multi-task and get things done, and in general you give up caring what people think of you, and whether or not the meal is perfect. Is it edible? yes. Will they die from eating it? no. Something in it whole wheat or vegetable oriented? yes. Then it’s all good. I found some tried and true recipes that were easy to make and easy on cleanup. I learned to run the dishwasher and empty it before company arrives to make cleanup a snap. I figured out how to time the cooking of dishes so everything would be ready at the same time. I learned to do the baking first, cleanup as I go, and chop all the vegetables first. In fact yesterday, I even had time to read the kids a few stories to entertain them before they went crazy waiting for our guests to arrive.

Dinner was apparently lip smacking good, and one guest gave me 3 stars. I didn’t ask out of how many stars, however I went to bed smiling that night. I didn’t break anything, burn anything, or forget the ice. It was a banner day for me. And whenever our home is filled with laughter and good food, I can’t help but smile. For me, it was a million dollar moment realizing how far I’ve come in this wife/mothering/hostessing business.

Float my boat

This past weekend was one of those weekends that gave me pause to remember just why we willingly uprooted ourselves from the community we love in Florida and moved back to Michigan. I need those reminders, because even though I’ve adjusted and settled back into life up here, there are frequent moments where emotion knocks me over like a tidal wave and I miss my friends in the south so very dearly.

It was Saturday afternoon, after The Narrator and one of his brothers had run a triathlon, and we’d had a birthday lunch for The Narrator’s 33rd birthday. The kids and I were floating in the pool with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Little Miss had hold of her auntie’s hands and they were twirling around the pool this way and that way, very lady like. And then there was T-Rex. Picking a fight. With his uncle. Who’s over six feet tall. Oh the trash talking. I have no idea (ok, maybe I do) how in short 3 years he learned how to trash talk so well, but he’s mighty good at it.

“I’m gonna get you Uncle K!!” Followed by much splashing and thrashing. “Nuh-uh, you can’t get me, I’m gunna get you. I’m gonna wreck you, you can’t get me!!” Uncle K let T-Rex ride on his back, cling to his neck, splash him, thrash him, and seriously trash talk him. It was quite the male bonding, while the three of us girls just tried to avoid the tidal wave happening in the other side of the pool. I’m not sure who wore out who, but I’m sure they both slept very, very well that night.

And as I floated on my little pink noodle observing Little Miss being very girly and T-Rex being as boyish as they come, enjoying playing with their aunt and uncle, I sighed a little sigh of contentment. These little family moments that happen now and then are part of why we moved back – for our kids to know (and trash talk) their aunts and uncles, to have cousins to play with and be friends with. To grow up around their roots. And so I can float in the pool while other family members entertain my kids. Ok, well maybe not consciously that part, but it is a nice perk

#5 MDM

Tickle Fest

One recent evening, Little Miss was sitting on my lap and we were having a tickle fest. She’s never been one to sit and cuddle; even as a baby she was always on the go, constantly wiggling and moving. So tickling has been our method of “cuddling.”

I paused in the tickle fest and began to whisper in her ear about how ticklish her daddy is, and where his tickle spots are. As we were whispering, The Narrator walked over with a “And what’s that you’re talking about, huh?” Without skipping a beat, Little Miss replied, “Shirts. We’re talking about how many shirts I have in my closet.”

The Narrator didn’t buy her attempt at a white lie, and replied while lurching at me, “Your Momma has lots of ticklish spots too!” Next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor, laughing uncontrollably trying to get away.

In an instant, I felt something physically release inside of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed that hard – the kind of laughter where you can’t help yourself and you couldn’t stop if you tried. They say that laughter is the best medicine, and as I lay writhing on the floor, I felt something penetrate my bones and move through my body. I was lighter. Life was simpler. I was a kid again. I was 17 and falling in love with the man of my dreams. I hadn’t a care in the world, and was flattered by his attentions. My life full of potential and unlimited dreams lay before me. All that from laughter resonating deep in the soul.

He finally let me go with a twinkle in his eye. The kids had joined in too. T-Rex had pounced on my head tickling my neck, and Little Miss was pulling on my leg trying to save me. I sighed and wiped the tears from my eyes. Before I resumed the weight of adulthood, I lingered in the light carefree moment and breathed in my family.

I’m not saying that we should all be tickled once a week until we laugh so hard we can’t breathe, but it was nice to laugh so hard and just let go of adult assumptions and pretentions.

#4 Million Dollar Moments

Blueberries this way

I’m kind of addicted to picking blueberries. And eating them. I’ve gone blueberry picking 3 times this month. I never knew what I was missing!

My second blueberry picking trip was with my Mom and Little Miss Sunshine. Unlike our first picking trip, the day was clear and sunny and gorgeous. The blueberries had plumped and hung on the bushes in clumps singing in unison “pick me!! pick me!!” I never realized how many blueberries could grow on one bush. You could stand at one bush and pick probably a pound of blueberries or more by the handfuls. The sweet aroma like blueberry muffins hung in the air. I am definitely going to have to plant some blueberry bushes.

Once our buckets were full we headed back to the car to drive to the stand to pay for our treats. We had arrived before the rush and the street was filling up. I had parked on a slight incline and as I was backing up, I thought I was getting stuck on the hill. I made it out onto the street and realized I had run over their little wooden sign with an arrow that said, “blueberries” to help people know the blueberries were behind the row of apple trees. Oops.

Little Miss Sunshine was rather concerned. “You’re going to tell them you’re sorry you ran over their sign, aren’t you? You better tell them you’re sorry.” Oh…the values we instill in our children come to haunt our own actions. “Yes, Little Miss, I’ll tell them I’m sorry.” Although I really didn’t want to admit I’d knocked it over. I tried to stand it back up, but it needed a staple, or nail…or superglue.

As I was checking out, I could tell that Little Miss had an eagle eye on me to make sure I apologized. As I handed the dear owner my cash I said, “And…I accidentally ran over your blueberry sign.” She looked at me and said, “Oh, well did you put it back up?” I shifted my feet, “Uh, I tried, but I think it needs a staple to hold it together, I’m sorry.” There I said it. Whew. I loaded up a bag with cucumbers to kind of make up for the poor sign. I figured it was time to try to make pickles anyway. She said she’d have one of the guys look at it and put it back together.

We got in the car and I informed Little Miss that I had done my deed.

We returned to pick a few more pounds of blueberries one more time. There’s nothing like having a freezer full of blue summer in January to break the icy doldrums. I hoped the owner didn’t recognize me from the other day, and if she did, she didn’t mention it. She was just happy I bought 5 more pounds of berries, and some peppers and broccoli too. I did notice that the sign was back up, and had a little string for extra support. I parked on the road, nowhere close to the sign.

#3 Million Dollar Moments

Sunset Run

The Narrator tried to get me to run with him after we first got married. He tried again a few years later while we both worked at the University. I should have listened. But no, I waited until we have two kids and schedules are complicated to decide to run.

When I started running a year ago, The Narrator would run with me occasionally to help me get to my next mile goals. He’s a chipper runner, all energetic and upbeat, the endorphins giving him a Batman Jokeresque smile. He seemed like the Joker, and the joke was on me, and my legs, and my lungs. I huffed and puffed to keep up, knowing even when I did keep up, he was still keeping a slower pace on my account.

A year of consistent running and I’m a much stronger runner. I’m still not fast, and probably never will be, but I have endurance. Lots of endurance. My parents were visiting this past weekend, and I needed to get in a run to keep up with my marathon training schedule. Since my parents were here, the Narrator threw on his Five Fingers, and we had the rare chance to run together. It was so different from a year ago. I knew that while my pace was still slower than his, it was only slightly slower, and I was able to carry on a conversation rather than constantly gasping for air. We ran a route I’d never run by myself. We headed out of our hood and through our new little town dodging shoppers catching an evening deal. Our path ran along the river, the evening breeze cooling us, and the fireflies flitting along beside us. The sun gradually set taking the humidity with it. We continued our seven mile trekk, sharing a love of running, a love of being in touch with our bodies – even the aching knee (his, not mine), and a love of just being together. We chatted about our kids, our lives, our running strategies, and just how content and blessed we feel at this point in our lives.

We rounded the corner towards home and I started to sprint. So different from a year ago. So many things are so very different. So very good. So very blessed. Like the year of running and developing endurance, that’s how our lives together have been for the past few years, building endurance and patience and all those hard character qualities that can only be built over time and through conscious effort.

It was a beautiful night for a run with the one I love.

#2 Million Dollar Moments.